Gotcha
by NykkiC
Summary: Dean is caught by the NCIS team which leads to a joint FBI/NCIS investigation. They think it's going to be easy as they already have the perp. But this is the Winchesters and Sam's still at large. NCIS/SPN x-over.
1. Prologue

Teaser/Prologue:

Sam Winchester concentrated on his cards. This was it, the big one, the one he couldn't, shouldn't, lose. "Buy," he said, not looking up. He took the proffered card and added it to his hand. "I'll sit," he declared to his opponent.

The man facing him merely nodded to Sam's cards and said "show 'em."

"Twenty," smirked the youngest Winchester as he flipped two fives and a queen so his opponent could see.

"Damn, that's good," said the card shark, an expression of defeat on his face for a second before he continued, "but not good enough: pontoon!"

"What? No way! You must've cheated!" Sam frantically reviewed the hand, trying to work out how he lost.

"Did not! Hah, I won!" yelled Dean as he got up and did a jig, "So that means it's my turn to keep us occupied until another hunt comes along." Sam put his face in his hands, wondering if the world would ever forgive him.


	2. Chapter 1

_Author's note:__ Everyone gets writer's block at some stage. The best cure for this is reviews. In that vein, a big thank you to Darthnikki and __I'mcalledZorro__ for two amazing review and yes, the chapters will be longer and the game they were playing was blackjack but sometimes it's also called pontoon. Another thank you to seamonkey for the review. Okay, I know I'm really bad at humour so I've decided to just stop trying with this story and make it drama._

_Hope everyone enjoys the chapter and don't forget to review._

"If you can't convince them, confuse them." –Anonymous

Chapter 1:

Ziva, Tony and McGee watched their captive through the two-way mirror.

"So, do you think he did it?" ask Tony without taking his eyes from the bruised and bleeding guy in the interrogation room.

"It is possible," replied Ziva, "especially since the FBI refuses to tell us anything other than his name."

"Yeah, that was a bummer. Wonder what he did to make the Feds so nervous."

"Murder, maybe," McGee contributed to the conversation for the first time.

"Doesn't look like a murderer to me," said Gibbs, causing all his agents to jump in surprise, "looks like a joy-rider or a con-artist."

"Why don't we just ask him, Boss?"

"Because, DiNozzo, Tobias asked nicely and he never asks nicely." Gibbs left, leaving the team to watch the captive in the interrogation room.

"Do you think he knows how to be still?" asked Ziva after another ten minutes watching the guy fiddle with the table.

…

Abby was sucking on her seventh caf-pow when she heard the usual "what have you got for me, Abs?"

"Nothing! I have absolutely nothing, Gibbs. There was nothing at the crime scene. The Major's body still hasn't been found. The FBI is blocking me from this guy's file so well that McGee couldn't hack it. I even tried searching the internet but there was just too much to sort through."

"Calm down, Abs."

"Calm down! A Major was killed, Gibbs. We know that because it was on tape. But the videotape has disappeared, there's no body, we don't know the Major's name or identity and we're being stonewalled by the Feds. All we've got is one guy who happened to be at the crime scene and all we know about him is his name. What are we ment to do?"

"Have you searched for any similar disappearances?" asked Gibbs and received only silence as an answer. "Start there, Abs, and do anything you can think of. I know you'll find something." He was gone before she had a chance to say anything but she had a smile back on her face. She started searching for similar disappearances and got nothing.

A flash of inspiration: she hacked into college databases. Instead of finding their suspect, she did one better: she found out he had a brother.

…

Agent Hendrickson was having a good day. But, like all good days, it had its bad elements. Chief among these was Agent Tobias Fornell, the most egotistical FBI agent Hendrickson had ever met. Agent Fornell was persuaded that Hendrickson was wrong about Dean Winchester just because some Navy cop didn't think he looked like a killer. The elder Winchester could dress up in a pink clown suit and run around singing 'Jolly Good Fellow' but it still wouldn't make him less of a psychopath. Hell, Hendrickson wouldn't think him any more insane than he already did.

At least now he was in custody. So what if Sam Winchester hadn't been caught? How much trouble would he be without his insane brother?


	3. Chapter 2

_A/N: I'm seriously sorry for the huge delay but school just started back up and I'm working around the clock. Okay, here's the second chapter. Thanks to everyone who has put this story in their favourites or on their alert subscription or reviewed it. Also thanks for all the suggestions, some of the ideas are great._

Chapter 2:

Dean Winchester was distinctly not bored, which was a rare event, and was in police custody, which was not. But for once it wasn't local cops or the FBI that had him but some agency he had never heard of: NCIS.

_It was supposed to be a way to keep them entertained in between jobs. All Dean had wanted to do was drop in on an old Marine buddy of their father's. After he won the game of blackjack against Sammy, his little (if not short) brother couldn't refuse to come along._

_They had dropped by Major (retired) Scott Williams' Washington townhouse to discover that the Major had gone to his usual game of golf. Odd, since the sun had already set._

_Dean could never work out what it was with old guys and golf. What was the appeal of swinging a metal stick with a flattened end at a tiny white ball, trying to hit it as far as possible and losing it after about three hits? Or of wearing those stupid pants? They probably only liked it because they couldn't do anything worthwhile like get laid. That explained why Sammy had gone to hire some golf clubs as soon as they had arrived at the Washington Military Golf Course._

_Dean had gone straight to golf field and it barely took him a minute to find Scott. The screams were a useful clue. He hadn't really expected to find his quarry at the other end of them but twenty-six years of hunting had made running towards trouble a reflex. He certainly hadn't expected to see a guy who had played noughts-and-crosses with him when he was younger bitting into someone's neck._

_So Dean had done what any other supernatural hunter would have done and snuck up behind Scott and used his boot knife to cut of his head. Another vamp down; all in a day's work. What happened next wasn't in a day's work._

_Some roundish nerd, maybe slightly younger than Sammy, comes out of nowhere and jams a gun into Dean's back._

_"You're under arrest."_

…

NCIS Special Agent Timothy McGee still couldn't believe how easy it had been to catch the guy responsible for the disappearances at the Washington Military Golf Course. He'd just been strolling back to the main building after finishing his game when he had seen a guy cut off another guy's head. He'd dropped his clubs and ran over to the scene, pulling his gun on the killer and telling him he was under arrest.

Too bad the body had disappeared. It was the only thing about the case that wasn't open and shut.

…

It was safe to say that Sam was pissed. He'd left Dean alone for five minutes and some jumped up, pompous ass of a federal agent had the nerve to arrest, yes arrest, Dean. After seeing Dean shoved into an NCIS van Sam had almost been angry enough to try something there and then but common sense and self-preservation had won out as he had vanished into the dusk. For one thing, he knew nothing about what, or who, he was up against and he didn't know where Dean was being taken.

The situation called for more research.

…

Abby was excited. She loved her job as the NCIS's forensic technician - she had held the job for a long time - but it was sweet to make a breakthrough in a seemingly impossible case. Still, stumbling upon the suspects' brother's FBI file had been more luck than skill.

Judging by his photo, Sam Winchester was pretty hot. Actually, if you only gave is file a quick glance, he seemed like a hotter McGee. Smart, went to a prestigious college, IQ off the charts and a desire to please others. Why else would a guy this smart go along with some of the things his brother had done?

"What do you have for me, Abs?" Abby jumped at Gibbs' words: she hadn't heard him come in. He had to have ESP. How else would he always know when she found something?

"I found the FBI file for this guy's brother. Pretty smart but his seems to really follow his brother's lead. He kinda reminds me of Tim."

"Anything else?"

"No, sir." Abby ripped off a mock salute and Gibbs left throwing a "good work, Abs" over his shoulder.

…

Tim McGee was glad that Gibbs had let him take the interrogation of the suspect. Apparently Abby thought that Tim and their captive's brother were a lot alike so the suspect might be more open to him. He sat in front of hum.

"Name?" asked Tim.

"Dean Winchester," was the reply, accompanied by a cocky smirk that made Tim's blood boil and set his teeth on edge.

"Age?"

"Twenty-six."

"Any long-term relationships?"

"I don't swing that way, officer."

"It's special agent and it was a legitimate question."

"No." If only Winchester would stop smirking, Tim might be able to reign in his temper and return to his usual calm.

"Recent employment?"

"In the immortal words of Dobie Gillis: 'I don't have anything against work. I just figure, why deprive somebody who really loves it.' "

"Unemployed, then." If McGee hadn't been paying close attention, he would have missed Winchester's low murmur:

"Only in a certain sense." McGee decided to let that go and get to the real questions.

"Where's your brother."

"Sammy?" Winchester laughed, "No idea. He could be breaking into Quantico for all I know."

…

Sam was glad that his father had enjoyed telling stories of his marine days, especially of those were he was stationed at Quantico. It ment that, after photocopying a couple of sets of blueprints, he knew exactly where everything was.

He grabbed the two duffle bags, one in either hand, and closed the door to the storeroom. He locked it and slid the stolen key out before pocketing it. He knew exactly which turns to take to get out of the maze-like building and did so without encountering anyone else. Once outside, he chucked the bags into the back of the Impala.

Sam smiled. He had everything he need. Everything would soon be in place.

NCIS wouldn't know what hit them.

…

"So, McGeek, you couldn't get anything out of him, huh? Now that _will_ make us look like shmucks to the FBI." Tim was about to reply when Gibbs appeared out of nowhere saying:

"Got a body over at Quantico."

Tim sighed and joined Tony and Ziva in following their boss, having no idea that he had managed to get onto the Winchester hit list.

That was not a good place to be.


	4. Winchester Hit List

The Winchester Hit List:

The Yellow-Eyed Demon

Shapeshifters (evil bastards)

All other supernatural entities

FBI Agent Hendrickson

NCIS Agent McGee

The rest of the FBI

The rest of NCIS


	5. Chapter 3

_A/N: From reading the reviews, I think most people are confused about the hit list. It was just a whim, a little something I came up with while editing the chapter and was inspired by the 'the Winchester hit list was not a good place to be' and was just a laugh. I can guarantee that they won't go homicidal on us. Promise._

_Oh, and sorry the update took so long. Writer's block and my computer crashed and erased all the work I had already done. Since I had lost my inspiration for the story I figured that I might as well just wrap it up here. So if it's a bit anticlimactic or abrupt, that's why._

Chapter 3:

Sam never went looking for trouble, and that was the truth. Unfortunately, that never stopped it from coming to look for him.

The plan had been simple, easy and brilliant. Kill something that goes bump in the night, in this case a werewolf. Dump it at Quantico. Get the NCIS team out there. Sneak into NCIS headquarters while they were gone. Sneak Dean out through the old sewerage system that ran under the building. Simple and elegant. And it went horribly wrong.

In his defence, it really wasn't Sam's fault. He couldn't have known that Gibbs had sensed something off in the report from Quantico and decided to send a different team. See? Not his fault.

And he only realized the plan had gone completely off track when he saw Gibbs walking down a corridor. But, by that stage, there was nothing he could do; he would just have to wing it and get Dean out of there. Sam was pretty decent at making things up as he went along, it was sort of a requirement for being a Winchester, so he was pretty confident that he could pull it off.

If only he could find the goddamn elevator!

The worst part of working for NCIS was the paperwork. It was one of the few things that every member of Gibbs' team agreed on, each for their own reasons. Gibbs hated it because it often involved using a computer (and that new-fangled thing, wassername, e-mail), McGee because he would rather be playing a RPG on his computer, Ziva because she was still used to the absolute deniability (and therefore no paperwork) afforded by the Mossad and Tony… because he was Tony.

That was the main reason they were going over the Winchester case files, to avoid actually finishing up on the case and so having to move on to the bane of their existence. That, and curiosity. Sure, I didn't hurt that it really infuriated Agent Hendrickson, but that wasn't the main reason. To be fair, they wouldn't like it either if a bunch of agents went over one of their cases with a fine-toothed comb. But still, it was fun. So they sat at their respective desks, with Agents Fornell and Hendrickson sharing Gibbs' desk, casually flipping through the case files.

That was how Ducky and Abby found them on their way out (okay, so they had taken a little detour: they had heard all about Agent Hendrickson from Tony and wanted their turn needling him). They whole lot of them were silent, pouring over manila folders stuffed with papers and most were wearing puzzled frowns.

"Gibbs!" Abby swooped down and gave the agent in question a firm hug, "whatcha doing?"

"Just going through some paperwork, Abs."

"Anything interesting?"

"Not really." The tail end of his words were drowned out by an explosion several floors beneath them that caused the whole building to shake. Now, in that kind of situation, people are meant to leave the building immediately in a quiet and orderly fashion. Ducky and Abby did. All the federal agents didn't. They did what any law enforcement would do when they heard a bomb go off: rush to the scene of the crime. It was down in the underground car park only used for NCIS vehicles that they found said scene of crime. They all had their guns out, sweeping the room for any hostiles. When they found none, they spared the hole torn in the roller door that usually secured the car park and concluded that the door had had a hole blown out of it from the inside.

…

The federal agents went from the parking lot to the interrogation rooms in record time. Of course, it wasn't fast enough to catch the Winchester brothers who had already created the hole downstairs. A quick look at the lock on the door of the elder Winchester's interrogation room revealed that it had been picked.

No one noticed when, two hours later, two more bomb squad agents came out than came in.

It took until the next day for the agents to discover that all the Winchester files and evidence, originals no less, had vanished into thin air. The comments that were then made by Agents Hendrickson, Fornell and DiNozzo were unrepeatable.

The Winchester brothers made it home safely after escaping police custody and only ever had one conversation on the subject before forgetting the whole incident and the conversation went like this:

"Dude, seriously, you need to stop getting arrested."

"Stop whining, Sammy. The Feds aren't hard to pull one over."

"Next time you get caught, I'm not bailing you out."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."


End file.
